Beginnings
by Chapin CSI
Summary: Slash. Prequel to "From Greg". Greg's been inordinately nice to Grissom lately. Grissom thinks it's Greg's way of saying 'thank you' for his promotion, but there's more -so much more.
1. Chapter 1

Beginnings

A prequel to 'From Greg'.

In FG, Gil & Greg faced life after Gil's retirement. This is the story of how they got together in the first place.

* * *

Gil Grissom took a deep, satisfied breath.

It was only seven in the morning, and the air was cool and relatively clean, completely different from the air he was used to breath at this time of the day. But then, he was usually in the city at this time of the day.

Bemused, Grissom considered his current situation.

He was on a cliff, one of the many that surrounded the city. He was sitting at the very edge of it, with his legs practically dangling in the air. Every time he looked down, a surreal scene met his eyes: hundreds of toy-like cars and trucks moving at a distance, their roar eerily muted by other, more immediate sounds -the sounds of nature. All around him, birds were awakening; insects were already buzzing about. Even small mammals were likely to appear, especially if they noticed the scent of his breakfast.

Breakfast today was a burger –not the bowl of cereal or the poached egg he usually favored at this time of the day; a _burger_. And instead of a secluded table at his favorite restaurant, he was sitting out in the open, at what used to be a park. Nothing much remained from it; just a few pieces of rotten wood from the picnic tables, and some scraggly bushes that survived thanks to the occasional showers that fell on the area.

Still, the place had a certain beauty to it. Grissom pictured it looking its best at night, with its view of the city and the sky above.

'A beautiful place to watch the stars', he thought, looking up at the blue, cloudless sky.

He took a bite from his burger, a tiny mouthful this time, because he wanted to make it last. It was really a great burger, better than he would have expected from a diner/gas station -what was the name? Idly, he looked at the logo on the waxed-paper wrapper: 'Mac's Old-Fashioned Burgers' it said, and the name was appropriate, since the place had a certain 50's feel to it. The prices weren't as old-fashioned, but that was ok, because the food was worth it.

Besides, he didn't pay for it. Greg did.

Again.

Grissom threw a covert glance at the young man sitting next to him. Greg had finished his burger and was munching on French fries now, but perfunctorily, as if it were only a chore.

Greg looked… tense. Worried.

Or did he?

Gil frowned. Before they started working side by side in the field, he thought he had a pretty good idea of who Greg Sanders was: fun-loving and brilliant, but essentially shallow. Lately, however, he'd found himself revising that opinion. Greg was fun-loving, yes; he was brilliant -definitely yes. But there were layers to his character too. There was so much about Greg he didn't know -which was hardly surprising; you can never hope to know everything about the people you work with.

What was surprising was the fact that he, Grissom, wanted to know more about Greg.

Gil caught himself openly staring at Greg, and to cover for it, he turned his attention to the coffee cup he'd set between them.

It was still hot.

His burger combo came with a Coke, but Gil had baulked at that. A burger for breakfast was ok, he said, but not a Coke.

Greg had complied and got him a cup of coffee –the best in the house- and by doing so, he'd missed a chance to get a commemorative glass bottle, one of ten he was trying to collect, one combo meal at a time. And it was the fact that Greg had complied so easily that made Gil pause then and now. Greg had been inordinately nice to him lately. Today's impromptu breakfast was only the latest in a series of invitations and small kindnesses that had started a couple of weeks ago.

Mostly, Greg had been buying him food. Nothing fancy, thank God: breakfast, a couple of burgers, a fruit basket…Nothing that would deem him a brown-noser, but enough to make Gil wonder. He suspected it was Greg's way of saying 'thank you' for his appointment as a new CSI, but if it was, then the gifts were unnecessary. Greg had worked hard for the job; he deserved it, and Gil had already told him so.

And yet, here they were.

Gil looked around again. He knew most of Las Vegas like the palm of his hand, but this was his first time here. He'd seen it from the highway, of course; he knew the park was now one of Vegas most popular lovers' lanes too... Which explained why he'd never come before: he wasn't a lover and never had been.

And since no crime had ever been reported here, there'd never been a legitimate reason for him to come.

Gil grinned at that last thought.

"What?" Greg asked. He'd noticed the grin.

Gil shook his head. "Nothing."

"So," Greg said, "What do you think?"

"About?"

"The place… the food…"

"I liked the burger," Gil said with his usual restraint. Actually, he'd loved the burger, and he'd already made a mental note to add 'Mac's Diner' to his list of places to visit for a quick bite. He just didn't want to make too much of it.

"Great place, huh?" Greg smiled.

"I suppose." He ate the last of his burger and crumpled the paper wrapper with something close to regret. He picked his coffee cup again. "Coffee's good, too," he added dutifully.

Greg chuckled, "No, I mean _this_ place. I mean, just look at that," and he waved his arm to encompass the landscape below.

Grissom looked. It was impressive, but he only shrugged.

"Oh, come on," Greg said, "Doesn't it make you want to come every night to watch the stars?"

"I guess," Gil said. Actually, he'd love to come here for a little stargazing, but he didn't think the couples in the lovers' lane would appreciate having a single guy sneaking around with a telescope. Still, he liked the place, and he was grateful to Greg for bringing him here. He wished he could say so, but he was afraid that if he did, it would only encourage more of these outings.

As it was, he'd already dodged an invitation to the movies twice.

Frankly, it was too much just to say 'thank you' for a promotion. Greg was good at the job, plain and simple. If he weren't so good at everything he did, he wouldn't be at the lab.

Nor would Gil be in love with him.

----------

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

BEGINNINGS

Part Two

* * *

Grissom blinked in surprise, then smiled sheepishly. Amazing, how some thoughts sneaked into his mind despite his impeccable training. He kept them in the back of his mind most of the time; locked away, so he could function through the day –and through the night- and brought them out only in the solitude of his home.

On the other hand, he wasn't at the lab -technically, he wasn't at fault. And he _was_ in love; admitting it in the light of day, with the young man just a couple of feet away, felt incredibly good.

Gil indulged those thoughts for a moment, then pulled himself together. With sudden determination, he put the crumpled wrapper and empty coffee cup in the paper bag.

"Well," he said, "I've got to go."

Greg was stunned to see Grissom rise to his feet.

"You're leaving already?"

"It's late."

Greg scrambled to his feet. "But you're not on the clock!"

"I've got stuff to do," Grissom said distractedly. He was considering which way to go. They'd left their cars down the road instead of driving them all the way up so no casual visitor would think Las Vegas' finest used their vehicles for casual meetings at a lovers' lane. Grissom didn't mind walking, but the land was a bit steep, and he had to choose his way carefully.

"Thanks for the meal," he said, before starting down.

"Can't you stay a while?"

Grissom glanced over his shoulder. "What for?"

"Well, I thought we could, you know, talk."

"We can talk in my office."

"But this isn't about work. Hey," he called out, because Grissom was walking away again. Greg trotted till he caught up with Grissom, then purposefully got ahead and cut into the older man's path.

Grissom kept walking, forcing Greg to walk backwards.

"What's the matter with you?" Greg protested, "Can't you relax a little?"

"Sure, I can."

"Well?"

"Not here," Grissom said.

Suddenly, Greg stopped. Grissom halted abruptly but not soon enough, and his legs got entangled with Greg's. Greg grabbed at him to avoid toppling over, and Grissom instinctively reached for him too. For a few seconds they held on, their fingers digging into each other's flesh, their eyes meeting in what Gil felt was a silent plea, 'don't let go'.

Stunned, Grissom let go.

Greg raised his eyebrows in bewilderment.

"What was that?"

"What was what," Gil retorted, and he crossed his arms, almost belligerently.

"What you just did," Greg said. "You acted like you got burned, or something." He was looking at Grissom waiting for an explanation, then suddenly, the answer seemed to dawn on him. "I get it," he said slowly. "I'm making you nervous."

Grissom rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's it," he said sarcastically. "You're making me nervous."

"I am," Greg said firmly. He was elated by the discovery, but he seemed amused by it too. "I can't believe this," he chuckled. "I thought it was just me, but it isn't. You feel the same, right?"

Gil stared back expressionlessly but inside he was reeling. God, he thought; how stupid can anyone be? Truth had dawned on him too, and now he knew what lay behind al those invitations.

All the teasing; all the playful innuendo that had peppered their private conversations lately; all those seemingly innocent discussions on who of the two was the weirdest, or the geekiest…

It was seduction.

And he'd fallen for it.

He was still assessing the situation, when Greg took a step closer.

"This is great news, Grissom," he said.

He was grinning, obviously confident of the situation. Even Grissom's arms weren't much of an obstacle; he got so close his breath brushed Gil's face when he spoke.

"You know," he said huskily, "I've always wondered what you'd taste like." And he openly gazed at Gil's mouth.

"I just ate a burger, Greg," Gil said dryly, "Right now I taste of onions and mustard and beef. Just like you, in fact. We ordered -"

'We ordered the same combo,' he was going to say, but Greg unceremoniously cut him off, and the most effective way possible: he pressed his mouth against Gil's.

Grissom's eyes widened in surprise, but that was his only immediate reaction. He didn't protest; he didn't even step back. He didn't think resistance would do him much good; it would probably only fuel Greg's determination.

Besides, it was just a kiss. Grissom's personal experiences on the subject were limited, but he knew what was coming: two noses smashed together while a mouth slobbered all over his.

'There,' he thought critically as Greg's kiss progressed. It was just what he'd expected.

Or maybe not.

Gradually –and quite reluctantly- Gil started to revise his opinion. First, Greg's nose didn't really bump into his. And Greg's mouth wasn't slobbering all over his. He was – well, he was better at this than Gil imagined. But that wasn't really surprising, was it? Greg was skilled at anything he did; he was bound to be good at this too.

It made Grissom wish he were better at this. The thought surprised him, but he didn't have time to dwell on it; Greg's lips were parting now, and Gil instinctively followed his lead.

'There,' Gil thought as his tongue tentatively explored Greg's mouth. Greg tasted just like he thought it would: of mustard and beef. And the pickles he added to the burger. And the French fries –

But there was something else there; something he couldn't readily ID…

Greg's own taste.

Gil abruptly stopped this train of thought, but he couldn't completely veer away; there was so much more to discover, after all. There were textures, too; like the smooth insides of Greg's cheeks and the rougher feel of his tongue. And Greg's bottom lip; so firm, so delectable…

_Delectable_?

Gil blinked his eyes open, only to realize that he'd closed in the first place. He just didn't remember when.

He was losing control…

And he wasn't sorry.

At one point, Greg started to pull back but Grissom didn't want to let go. That he could have simply reached out and grab Greg never occurred to him. His arms weren't crossed anymore but now hung by his sides, his hands tightly closed on the 'Mac's Diner' bag. He kept contact with Greg by leaning forward, his mouth firmly pressed on the young man's.

Finally, Greg had to push him back.

"Shit, Grissom," he gasped. "Don't you have to breathe?"

Oh. Yeah, Gil thought distractedly, _breathe_, and he dutifully took a couple of lungfuls. He vaguely noticed that his face was flushed and that his heart was racing, but his attention never really waivered from Greg's mouth. He was looking at it in open wonder, following its every move as Greg took big gulps of air, and then as he smiled.

It took him a moment to realize Greg was actually speaking.

"So, you like kissing," Greg said, "I'm glad."

Grissom looked up.

The young man's smile was confident –arrogant, even- but there was a touch of fear in his eyes too. And another thing: he hadn't touched Grissom. His arms hung by his sides, his hands clenched tightly. He wasn't as confident as he seemed, and Gil had an idea why. He had precious little experience in relationships, but he knew this was the precise moment when a relationship could go to hell. A word of rejection, a punch in the face –anything could happen.

And it was up to him to decide what was gonna be.

Only he didn't want the responsibility.

"Look at that," Greg said suddenly. He was looking at something on the ground.

Gil looked down too. A paper bag lay between them –his paper bag; he'd dropped it without realizing.

"You're littering, Grissom," Greg said. "That's a serious offense." When Gil looked up, he added, "Park officials take this stuff seriously –more seriously than you might think. I mean, just because people leave behind their used condoms doesn't mean you can leave your leftovers. And you're a CSI Supervisor -you really should know better -"

He was only teasing, of course. But words had another purpose here, and Gil knew it; Greg was using them to cover up his nervousness.

The realization made him smile.

It was up to him to make things better.

"Shut up, Greg," he said. Then, before he could gauge the consequences of his actions (that would come much later), he pulled Greg into his arms for another kiss.

* * *

Next chapter will be set after the events in From Greg.


End file.
